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User blog:Perceptor64/The Truth About Blurr
Falling. A distinct sensation of falling through pitch darkness overtakes your sensors. Air rushes past the audials. No matter how much you flail and grasp at the void, desperately hoping to catch onto something, there is nothing. But is it truly falling? Or just a terrible feeling of being completely out of control, with no end in sight? The darkness fades away, and images of the Forge form around you. Blurr can be seen clinging to pipes in the ceiling. A dead disposable falls out of it, shot through the chest. But that scene is whisked away quickly, and another takes its place... Nyon, where Shiftlock was captured. You watch as Blurr murders three low caste refugees as they attempt to escape, though if they thought they could outrun him, they were sadly mistaken. Swiftblade, on a transport in Thunderhead Pass. Blurr holding her hostage. Nyon again. This time it's Hot Rod being threatened. Then there's Rung being attacked as well. It's all becoming convoluted, and difficult to distinguish one instance from another....One thing is constant though, it's always Blurr harming or threatening someone, usually someone he once called friend. But no matter what you do, you have no power over the scenes that unfold. Nothing can stop them as you are forced to simply observe. And then, all their faces fade away. They are gone, and there is nothing but despair in their wake. A raw longing for times when things were simpler... You find yourself in a large whitewashed room. It's the very room Blurr spent the entirety of the first few meta-cycles of his life in. Where he was isolated, cut off from the rest of the world. Only this time, there are a series of empty tubes and needles on the floor. And not for from the pile of tubes, is Blurr himself. He looks...battered and bruised, as if he'd been beaten. His vibrant blue hues are faded, appearing greyish in color like the day Feint had found him near Altihex, bleeding and near death. He cowers in a corner of the room, looking small and terrified as a dark shape passes by the large rectangular window at the front of the room. BLAM. BLAM. Someone is blasting at the door, forcing their way in. But no one has dared try to block it, or do anything to keep the intruder out... Finally, it gives way, and in the doorway stands...Blurr himself? Only this version of him isn't ragged and beaten, and wears a blank, emotionless expression. He advances into the room, headed for his less healthy self, who doesn't try to run but merely continues to cower in fear. Blurr reaches for himself, but the other self cringes away. Then he starts reciting something, over and over again, almost like a chant: "Justice is over all...order must be maintained...sacrifices will be made..." '' Again, and again the words are chanted.... and the cowering stops. Slowly, the sickly racer stands up, his optics fixated upon his other self's face---as if he can't look away...as if hypnotized by it somehow. He begins to chant them as well, in unison with himself. ''"Justice is over all...order must be maintained...sacrifices will be made..." '' ''"For Cybertron...for the good of all..." Blurr reaches for himself once again, but this time there is no further resistance. He places both of his hands on the other's shoulders... Something strange begins to happen. It starts to become harder to determine where one version of himself ends and the other begins. The weaker one is fading slowly into the stronger, lines blurring and boundaries vanishing....two will become one. Or rather, the weaker manifestation will be assimilated, and cease to exist... Category:Blog posts Category:Blog posts